


We've No Way of Knowing

by turps



Category: The Good Place (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-14
Updated: 2019-01-14
Packaged: 2019-10-10 04:01:42
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,068
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17418710
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/turps/pseuds/turps
Summary: All they can do is wait.





	We've No Way of Knowing

**Author's Note:**

  * For [mols](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mols/gifts).



> I hope you enjoy this, Mols.
> 
> Thank you to Sperrywink for looking this over.
> 
> For anyone that doesn't know, Eastenders is a UK soap known for having depressing episodes at Christmas.

“Do not look in there,” Tahani states, eyes wide and hand brought up to her mouth. She takes a deep breath, shuddering slightly as she looks back at the door she’s slammed shut. “They’re torturing someone. Those poor, poor people.”

Eleanor doesn’t want to look -- she _shouldn’t_ look. She’s already faintly traumatised by room three hundred and twenty-seven because who knew you could use jello for _that_. Even so, she feels herself reaching for the door handle, her curiosity biting.

And is confused when she opens the door and sees a small room. One that contains a couch with a fuzzy pink blanket thrown over the back and a couple sitting watching TV.

“I don’t understand.” Eleanor crowds closer, trying to see if the woman has her feet nailed to the floor, or the man’s skin has been flayed off. But there’s nothing. No nails, no floggers, no sheets of skin floppy and fresh on the ground. “They’re watching TV.”

“They’re watching _Eastenders_ ,” Tahani gasps, brushing at the front of her flowered sundress, as if even the words have left specks of dirt. “And there are Christmas decorations. This is a Christmas episode. The horror.”

Eleanor glances at Chidi, hoping he can explain what’s so horrific, but he shrugs his shoulders and repeats, “They’re only watching TV.”

“They’re watching _Eastenders_ ,” Tahani says again, and at Eleanor's incomprehensible look points at the room. “Eastenders is a soap opera, one that will suck out your will to live. That’s especially true at Christmas, when nothing good ever happens on screen. You eat your Christmas dinner as cooked by Gordon Ramsay, admire your new flawless diamond ring and then are forced to endure two episodes of misery. It’s the British way.”

“The British way sucks,” Eleanor says, head tilting to one side when, onscreen, a woman tips over a table, sending a whole cooked turkey crashing to the floor. “I’d still eat it. Five second rule. Well, five minute rule for me. I’m not fussy.”

“Indeed you’re not,” Tahani says, and Eleanor would be insulted, except, whatever, who would be fussy when faced with delicious floor food turkey.

As if on a signal, Eleanor’s stomach gurgles, and she laughs, petting it fondly. “The beast has spoken. We need to find food already.”

“I don’t think we can actually get hungry in here, and I wouldn’t talk about beasts.” Chidi frowns, looking at the doors that are floating around them. “We don’t know what’s lurking behind those doors….”

“We know what’s behind door number three hundred and twenty-seven,” Eleanor says, cutting Chidi off. “And it’s disgusting. Also, a little titillating. In you know, a sick and twisted kind of way that I’ll never admit could be hot.”

“It’s also _awesome!_ ”

“Jason? Where are you, man?” Eleanor can hear Jason, but he’s nowhere in sight. Just Chidi, Tahani and this vast grey space that’s intersected with doors. 

“In here!”

Another yell and a door above and to their left suddenly opens and Jason looks out, only his upper body showing. He’s smiling, waving, but also covered in dripping green jello, clumps on his face and stuck to his chest.

“You need to come in here and try this.”

“Are you in room three hundred and twenty-seven?” Eleanor says, horrified and also, slightly attracted. “Tell me you’re not in room three hundred and twenty-seven.”

“I’m not in room three hundred and twenty-seven,” Jason says immediately, looking downcast for all of a second before his natural happiness shines through. “But if I was, I’d tell you to come inside and try it, because it’s awesome!”

“Oh, Jason.” Tahani sighs, and takes a small step forward, as if, for a moment she was considering going into the room. “You really shouldn’t stay in there. The jelly has to be bad for your skin.”

“Also, shouldn’t go where that thing is putting it, buddy,” Eleanor cuts in and hopes Jason is still wearing pants. “You know these are eternal damnation rooms, right? You shouldn’t enjoy them.”

“But I like jello.” Jason swipes his fingers over his face, dislodging a lump of jello so it slides into his mouth. “It’s delicious. Like the taste of grass on my tongue.”

“He means because it’s green, right?” Chidi says, and then, directed at Jason. “You mean because it’s green, right? Because jello doesn’t taste of grass. At least, it shouldn’t. And does grass even have a taste? I don’t know, have you ever eaten grass?”

“I’ve tried a wheatgrass shot,” Tahani says helpfully, smoothing her hands over her hips. “My nutritionist said it would help with digestion. It was all the rage with us girls for a while, Kate Winslet swore by it.”

“I used to enjoy jello shots,” Eleanor puts in, smiling as she remembers nights at the bar, hot guys and the heat in her chest as alcohol laced jello slides down her throat. “I liked the fruity ones and how they’d wobble if you poke them.”

“So that’s a no to eating grass,” Chidi says, brow pinched as he stares at Jason. “You should get out of there.”

“He’s right, pal. Michael could be back any time.” Eleanor looks over her shoulder, but there’s still no sign of Michael, just that empty space and doors. Many, many doors. “And Janet.”

“Janet, I love Janet.” Jason grins and kisses the tips of his fingers, throwing the kiss -- and a glob of jello -- into the air. “I love you, Janet. I’ll keep some jello for you.”

“You do that, buddy,” Eleanor says, craning her head a little to look in the room as Jason steps outside, thankfully, still wearing pants.

“And we shall keep looking for Michael.” Tahani tosses her head, ensuring her hair is lying perfect as she starts walking, her steps silent. “Surely he’ll be back soon. He can’t expect us to hide here forever.”

“He’ll be back soon,” Eleanor says, holding onto her confidence that Michael will return, that he’ll find his loophole and come back. It’s just a case of being patient, and until then, “Should we open another door?”

“Hello, eternal damnation rooms?” Chidi says, but still follows Tahani when she changes direction slightly and heads for a door. “We shouldn’t do this.”

“Of course we should.” Eleanor grins, draping her arm over Chidi’s shoulder, bumping him with her hip as Tahani reaches out. “What’s the worst that could happen?”

Tahani opens the door.


End file.
